Author's Note: Ok, here is a fic. It's from the POV of Hermione. During year 4. You'll catch on. Read and review.
Nothing amazing happened when I saw him in person that day at Hogwarts. I’d seen him before, so it certainly wasn’t ‘love at first sight’. I knew him. Bloody hell, everyone knew him what with the Quidditch World Cup! I had seen his face many times before, Ron was obsessed over him.
“Bloody hell! It’s him!” Ron was starstruck.
I glanced at Harry, sitting next to me. He too seemed extremely impressed and was craning to get a better look between Ron and Seamus’ head. Well, it's better that they are impressed rather than drooling over some air-headed French girls I suppose. I looked skeptically back at him.
Other than his perfect hair, chiseled face, gorgeous eyes, bulging muscles, and other was perfect physique; he really wasn’t all that impressive.
Godric, I am a horrible liar. I admit, I was smitten, completely swept off my feet. Not only was he a fantastic Quidditch player, but Viktor Krum was beautiful.
“Oh Godric,” I heard Lavender sigh dreamily from across the table. I saw her exchange looks with her best friend Parvati before erupting into giggles as they stared after the Bulgarian.
I was sitting only across the table; I could very easily been included in the giggling and smiling. But no, I was Hermione Granger, the best friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and therefore could never have such feminine emotions. Just because I was a bookworm did not mean that I was not a girl. Everyone seemed to forget that fact and it bothered me to no end. Ron and Harry were brilliant and like my brothers. But I enjoyed some girl activities as well. And neither they, nor Parvati and Lavender understood that, and I was often alienated.
But Ginny and I exchanged silly, giddy smiles at each other. Ginny was in the same boat that I was in, and company was always good.
“Wonder if I could get his autograph,” Ron’s wondering question brought me back to my senses.
Who was I kidding? Krum was three years my senior. And besides that, he had every girl in Britain swooning over him (and probably every girl in Europe for that matter). But still…a girl could always dream.
I glanced between Ron and Seamus’ heads to his spot at the Slytherin table. At that exact moment, he looked up and met my gaze. We stared into each other’s eyes for a beat, hazel being completely eroded with the dark chocolate.
“Oy, Hermione! Food’s here! Pass the ham!” one could always count on Ronald to ruin the moment.
I quickly dropped my gaze and picked up the requested dish and handing it across the table to Ron, murmuring quietly to Harry on my left for the mashed potatoes.
“You’re blushing!” he laughed. My cheeks burned even more.
“Oh am I? Yes well, it’s quite stuffy in here,” I replied smoothly.
I began conversing with Dean Thomas who was seated to my right about his feelings on the Quidditch World Cup. As predicted, Seamus jumped in and added his two bits from across the table, which led Ron and Harry into the conversation as well. I followed the conversation much more avidly than I normally would if I weren’t trying to focus myself on anything other than the gorgeous Bulgarian across the Hall.
Ignoring Krum seemed to be extremely difficult. Everywhere I turned, he seemed to be there.
Luckily, Harry and Ron got into an argument following Harry’s name being pulled from the Goblet of Fire. I found that it made the perfect distraction. Both boys expected me to be completely on his side, something that left me torn, distraught, and guilty.
I felt obligated to support Harry, because the Triwizard Tournament was sure to prove challenging and he’d come to me first thing to beg for my help, something that I couldn’t refuse because if I did and he died, the blame would lie solely with me (and the selfish bit of me was determined to help Harry win solely so Krum would not). I knew he hadn’t put his name in the Cup; he wasn’t suicidal!
But Ron was devastated and hurt that Harry hadn’t told him that he put his name in the Goblet. I knew Harry hadn’t, but I certainly couldn’t tell Ron that. I felt bad for him. His best mate always got all the attention. He needed support more than ever and I couldn’t just desert him.
So, I was in the middle of their argument. Though I suppose that was old news. I was always in the middle.
Harry and I sat by our tree near the Black Lake, basking in the warm sunlight and thoroughly enjoying putting off our homework until Sunday.
“Seems odd not to have Ron around,” I commented quietly.
Try as I might to deny it, Ron certainly was the entertainment and could make me laugh oftentimes when no one else could. It was true, not having Ron seemed fundamentally wrong. It was much too quiet for things to be normal. I admit, I was trying to guilt him into apologizing. I was playing both sides of the fence and as much as I hated it, I couldn’t choose sides. I loved both of them much too much (a friendship love as I argued with Lavender Brown many times).
“Bloody nice if you ask me,” Harry grumbled.
“Harry you’ve been at it for weeks! I can’t stand it anymore! It’s tearing me in half! Can’t you just----?” I pleaded, turning to him.
“NO!” he snapped and I flinched.
I looked away, a few unbidden tears escaping. Furious, I brushed them away. Part of being Hermione Granger was never allowing yourself to cry. Crying is weakness. Harry had fought You-Know-Who plenty of times. Allowing myself to cry over something this trivial was plain and simple stupid. Unfortunately, Harry saw the tears before I could get compose myself.
“Are you cr-crying?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. Pride bruised at showing weakness, I shrugged his hand away.
“No,” I said stubbornly. He wasn’t fooled.
“I’m sorry, Mione,” Harry said sadly. Oh bloody hell, here came the waterworks and I knew it! I turned back to him, eyes welling up with tears.
“I hate it when you two fight! I just hate it! I can’t choose between you and it just tears me in half!” I cried imploringly.
“Listen, after the Task tomorrow, I’ll patch things up with him, ok? I swear,” he put his hand on my shoulder again, staring me straight in the eyes. I nodded, embarrassed now, as I looked at my lap.
“Thank you Harry,” I murmured quietly.
Harry sighed and held his head in his hands. I knew what was wrong. I had been doing a good job keeping his mind off of it until I had to go and open my bloody mouth!
“I have no idea what I’m doing. The Task is tomorrow. I’m going to get myself killed out there!” he said quietly, “Well, at least it’ll give Ron a good laugh,” I shook my head firmly and put a comforting hand on his knee.
“You’ll be ok, you’ll see Harry,” I told him. He looked out across the lake, shaking his head slowly.
“I don’t have any idea anymore,” he whispered.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I slipped off my shoes and shocks and stood up, casting my light, hooded jacket on the ground. I flicked my wand and I was in my beach attire: hair cascading down my shoulders, navy blue basketball shorts and a white tank top over a simple green, one-piece bathing suit. Harry looked up in surprise.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“The water’s great this time of year,” I replied simply, “I find a nice swim clears my head a bit,”
I picked my way across the wet, slippery rocks and stepped into the lake. I let the cool water swirl around my ankles and I breathed in deeply. The sand was wet and squishy between my toes, but perfectly soft. I waded further in, until the water was around my waist.
“Hey Hermione! Wait up!” I turned to see Harry wading towards me. He was in red and gold swim trunks. Surprised, I looked to see his robes folded into a pile back up at the tree.
I watched as he came towards me. His foot must have hit a slippery rock, because he slipped and went under the cool water. I laughed and clapped my hands as he came up, sputtering and sopping wet.
“Very clever Harry,” I laughed as he caught up to me, “And extremely graceful at that!”
“Thanks,” he grinned, splashing me with water.
I shrieked and threw my arms up, attempting to keep from getting wet. But it didn’t work very well.
“Aw Harry!” I moaned. I wasn’t planning on getting very wet, just wading in to my waist.
He laughed and sent another stream of water at me. I shrieked, as my midriff got wet. I attempted to protect myself with my hands, but it still was in vain. As I cowered from the shower, I looked up to see Krum run down the bank and dive into the water. He passed mere feet from Harry and I; large, muscular arms made for powerful strokes through the water. Getting ready for the task tomorrow I expect. I pretended not to notice him and turned back to Harry, only to find Harry gone. Puzzled, I turned back to shore, but he wasn’t there either.
With a roar, Harry suddenly grabbed me from behind and lifted me up into his arms, as though he was carrying me, his bride, across the threshold of our new home. I screamed in terror, not expecting it at all.
“Harry!” I yelped. He threw his head back with laughter at the look on my face. I didn’t find it funny in the slightest.
“Put me down!” I demanded.
I was only 5’3 and rather slender so I probably didn’t weigh all that much. Both boys enjoyed poking fun at how I was much shorter than either of them and hardly ate at all. They were constantly teasing me about how they could pick me up with their pinky finger. But still, I preferred my feet firmly on the ground and not draped in Harry Potter’s arms. Besides, the Hogwarts gossip queens Lavender Brown and Parvati Brown would have a field day, and I did not take too well to the limelight.
“Such cowardice! And you call yourself a Gryffindor!” he teased.
“Even lions need their feet on the ground,” I replied, glaring at him, “And besides that, you’re going to drop me! I’m nearly as tall as you are!” He snorted with clear skepticism.
“You’re nowhere near as tall as I am, Hermione, even though you may wear 3 inch heels just to prove otherwise. And you are bony, whereas I am muscular,” he grinned, “I spend time working out for Quidditch so lifting all sixty pounds of Granger is nothing. I have biceps the size of your head!” I rolled my eyes.
“You wish, Potter. Don’t let your muscles go to your head though. No one likes a proud celebrity!” I teased, “Now, put me down!” He shrugged carelessly.
“Have it your way then,” Harry said simply, dumping me into the lake.
Sputtering and coughing, I broke the surface, gaping at Harry in shock. He roared with laughter as I pushed a soaking strand of hair out of my face.
“HARRY JAMES POTTER!” I screamed in rage, as I climbed to my feet again.
I leapt at him, throwing my arms around his neck in a pitiful attempt to drag him under the water. He just stood there, letting me hang on him ridiculously. I let go and fell back on my own feet.round
“I was just doing as you told me, Hermione,” he gave me a look of pure innocence.
I cracked up, throwing my head back with laughter. I felt my hair fall down my back, dripping wet. We stood there, soaking wet, laughing our heads off. In retrospect, it wasn’t that funny. But the tension of the Task the next day, and the emotional strain from this argument with Ronald had us laughing our heads off.
Krum swam back, already done with his swim across the lake. He stood up as he reached Harry and I, Harry not paying attention. He gave me a hundred watt smile that would make any girl melt. But this knew, laughing Hermione was also much more confident. I gave a small smile back, before splashing Harry mercilessly with water.
The day Madam Pince banned Krum’s stalkers from the library was already dubbed a holiday in my mind before Krum spoke to me.
He had been in the library quite often, as were his noisy, giggly followers. I saw him nearly everyday there, but never spoke to him. He was always searching for some book that was always right around the corner from where I was. I tried changing tables and everything, but I guess Krum was quite an avid reader because he was constantly moving all about the library. There was no avoiding him!
It was nearing eight o’clock and Madam Pince would soon be closing. I was just reading for leisure now. I felt someone tap my shoulder.
“Excuse me?” he had a thick accent. I turned to see the Viktor Krum looking down at me. I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and resisted the urge to turn and look around to see if he could be possibly be talking to me.
“I was just wondering,” he took a deep breath then, “ if you could help me with some of this homework?”
“I-I am only a fourth year,” I explained, blushing furiously now.
“I know, but you are also very smart,” he agreed. I stared at him in shock.
“You want my help?” I repeated. He nodded.
“If you do not mind,” he said quickly. I shook my head.
“Please sit down. I’ll see if I can help,” I told him.